


Sunflower Seeds

by FrowFreakShow



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Boyfriends, Experimentation, Gay, Irondad, Kidnapping, M/M, Male Homosexuality, My First Spideypool Fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is 18, Spiders, Superheroes, Superpowers, Turf War, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16913853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrowFreakShow/pseuds/FrowFreakShow
Summary: Peter manages to get himself in a sticky situation, and the infamous Merc with a Mouth just so happens to be in the neighborhood.Title Inspired by the song ‘Sunflower’ by Post Malone and Swae LeeBeta: CreativeRosehttps://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeRose/pseuds/CreativeRoseShe’s a lesbian empress with a fenominal pair of tattas. Check her out, she’s pretty fucking cool.





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys. This is my first fic on this site and I’m super excited to write more on this platform. This is also my first Spideypool fic, so bare with me if I don’t get the character’s personalities right the first try. I think I did okay with Peter, but I’m worried about writing Wade lol. Hopefully it’ll all work out.
> 
> Disclaimer: Comic book knowledge isn’t necessary, but some of the characters in the story will be from the old comics and tv series, so if there are names you don’t recognize, that’s why. I’ll try to include as much info on them as I can in the end notes of the chapters I introduce them in.

Peter sits on the edge of a rooftop, dangling his feet off the edge while he munches on a churro he’d bought from a friendly street vendor earlier in the day. The cold night air bites at his skin, but Karen turns on the heating system in his suit to keep him comfortable and warm. Tonight is surprisingly peaceful and quiet, aside from the occasional wisp of the Autumn breeze and the few night owls of New York driving down the roads. “Hey, Karen?” Peter asks his A.I. “Yes, Peter?” She replies, a small sound icon appearing on the screen behind the eyes of his mask. “Have you heard anything from the police dispatch yet?” He questions, half tempted to just go home and study for his Geometry test tomorrow, although he doesn’t really need to. Peter is pretty much the smartest kid in Midtown High, but the night has been so uneventful and silent, that he thinks it’ll probably stay that way. The only real thing keeping him there is the dull tingle in the back of his mind, telling him he needs to keep watch. “Not yet, the lines are silent at the moment. Would you like to turn in for the night?”

His spider-sense has been bugging him ever since he started his patrol a few hours ago, but it’s been slowly getting more noticeable as time passes by. It makes Peter shiver at the vulnerability; like at any moment he could be jumped or ambushed. He knows his senses will warn him in time, but the thought of being caught off guard makes him nervous nonetheless. It makes it really hard for him to relax, despite the calming night life of the city that surrounds him. He really wants to just pass this feeling off as anxiety for the oncoming test, but Peter knows better than to question his Spidey-Senses and if he hears about something he could’ve prevented happening on the news, he would never forgive himself. He still hasn’t been able to forgive himself for what happened to Uncle Ben due to his carelessness and stupidity. One would think that three years would be enough to be able to move on, but Peter’s massive guilt complex begs to differ.

“No, I think I’ll stay for a bit longer.” He concludes, finishing off his churro and climbing down to a dumpster to toss out the wrapper. He then makes his way back up the wall and perches in his previous position. “Okay, would you like to listen to the J3 Podcast? Jameson is going live and I must say that his theories can be quite… entertaining.” She teases, already tuning into the station before Peter can give her a response. “Welcome to ‘Just the Facts’ with J. Jonah Jameson, alerting you to the treats you don’t even know about.” His boss introduces, but Peter couldn’t deal with his Spider-Man rants right now. He usually enjoys listening to the old man rant about his weird and humorous controversies, but tonight he’s a bit too on edge. He’ll ask John to tell him all about it at work tomorrow afternoon at the Daily Bugle, he and Pete’s day job. Of course, with classes and spider-duties, all he really has time to do is be the freelance photographer for his biggest fan. The only reason he managed to get the job was because he’s the only person that can get any decent close ups of Spider-Man in action.

One would think that working for the man that is hellbent on convincing the city that he’s a pigeon-eating menace would be a bit mentally draining, although he has that effect on most people he comes in contact with, but behind the anger and irritableness, Peter has discovered that Jameson has a soft spot for him. Sometimes, he puts a little extra money in his paycheck if he and May are low on rent. He also tends to not escalate his voice as much when talking to Peter, which his enhanced hearing will always be thankful for. At lunch, he’ll tell him stories about his younger years when he was the private detective known as ‘Jigsaw Jameson’, which are actually really cool despite the fact that there’s a strong likelihood that he over dramatizes his heroics. Whenever John is having a bad day, Peter cheers him up by reminding him of one of the many tales he’s been told and how he valiantly solved the problem at hand.

A sudden spike in his senses are followed by a shrill scream in the distance, seemingly two blocks away if Peter’s math and hearing are correct, which they usually are, breaks him from his thoughts. Already knowing what to do, Karen turns off the radio and maps out the quickest route to the estimated location and, without missing a beat, Spider-Man stands up from his place on the ledge, backs up a few paces and takes a running leap off of the rooftop into the city below. He feels the intoxicating rush of adrenaline pump through him before he catches himself with a string of webs at the last second, gracefully propelling his body and flipping into the night sky. The wind whips passed him in a rush as he swings his way towards the call of distress, warning signs blaring in the back of his head.

Peter quietly lands on top of another building, approaching the ledge cautiously to assess the situation. From the looks of things, it was just some petty thieves holding some poor man at gunpoint in the alleyway below, but from the way his senses were shouting at him, things are about to go horribly wrong. “L-Look guys, I don’t have anything to give you. I’m broke!” The man at the end of the barrel negotiates, his hands up in surrender. “We’ll see about that.” ‘Generic Mugger Number One’ growls, clicking the safety off of his pistol. Spidey takes that as his sign to intervene, swooping down and webbing the gun out of the man’s grasp. “Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horses there, cowboy. Why do criminals always have to be so violent? Whatever happened to asking nicely, huh?” All three of them turn to Peter in surprise, but their demeanor suddenly changes when they spot him. “Spider-Man, just the guy we were hoping to see.” ‘Generic Mugger Number Two’ says menacingly, taking a step forward. “What? You were hoping to see little ole’ me? I gotta say, I’m flattered. I really am.” He quips, bringing a hand up to hold his heart dramatically.

“Yeah, Mr. Fisk wants us to test a little something out for him,” The guy that Peter had thought was being mugged pipes up, pulling a black device out of his jacket pocket. “Ooh! Is that a present? It’s not even my birthday! Ya know, when he wants to be, Willie can be a real sweetheart.” He jokes, but he knows that whatever that is can’t possibly be good—none of Fisk’s little presents were ever good. Before Peter can web the gift out of the man’s hand, he presses a button and a loud, piercing sound rings through his ears. His Spider-Sense fluctuates sporadically, going silent one moment and blaring the next, making his head throb from all of the mixed signals. He screams out in pain and falls to his knees, his mind going completely haywire. He can feel warm blood drip from his eardrums and down his neck, making him shudder at the tickling sensation.

Peter needs to get out of there, now. He slowly stands up, unsteady and wobbly on his feet, but he pushes through it. He quickly turns around, immediately regretting it when he feels his head spin, and thwips two lines of webbing at the top of a fire escape, yanking himself into the air. Just as he reaches the rooftop, he feels something light hit his back, but he completely disregards it, currently too focused on getting away from the awful ringing to care. He zips away in a hurry, much less graceful and confident than he was before, determined to get as far away from the scene as possible. The farther he gets from the alley, the lower the volume gets, but the light buzzing in the back of his skull never quite leaves. Whatever they used on him had really messed with his Spidey-Senses and that horrifies him to the core. He needs to figure out whatever that stupid device is and take it to Mr. Stark so they can prevent it from hurting him again.

Peter decides he’s done enough patrolling for the night, so he swings his way back home to his and his Aunt May’s shared apartment in Queens. He takes his mask off as soon as he gets completely through his bedroom window, taking in a big whiff of fresh air… Well, fresh really isn’t the best way to describe the air in Petey's room. Dirty laundry is piled up all along the floor and mounds of empty wrappers and fast food bags are collecting on his computer desk and nightstand. The room smells suspiciously of leftover Burger King, cologne, and teenage hormones. Most people would turn their noses at its pathetic condition, but Peter personally likes it. It’s homey and familiar and Pete wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now that the ringing is gone and his busting migraine has dulled to a small throb, he finally is able to think properly. He replays the scene from the night in his head a couple of times, realizing just how serious this predicament is. If Fisk and his goons start making more of those things and distributes them, Peter is going to be in a world of hurt. Every thug in New York will have an advantage on him, and that is not something Spidey needs. Defeated, Peter grabs his cell from the cluttered nightstand and scrolls through his contacts, stopping on ‘Mr. Stark’, trying not to hyperventilate. The phone rings a couple times before a familiar voice answers with a “Hey, Underoos. What’s up?” He lets out a long sigh of relief, thankful that his mentor answered instead of ignoring his call like he normally does. “M—Mr. Stark,” he exclaims into the receiver, “Something crazy just happened! There was these guys and they had this device and it was a setup and I thought someone was getting mugged, but they weren’t and I was scared and—” “Woah, hold up! Slow down there, kid. You’re talking way too fast. I need you to breath and tell me what happened.” Tony cuts him off calmly, the underlying worry in his voice barely noticeable.

Peter takes a few deep breaths, just as he was told, before continuing. “I was—I was just patrolling, ya know? Like I do everyday, but today was really quiet at first, so I was thinking about calling it a night. Then, I heard someone scream, so I followed it to a mugging, but it was all an act! They were Fisk goonies and they had this tiny, black sound-thingy that threw off my Spider-Sense! It was soooo weird and scary and if those things get out to the public, criminals are gonna have a field day and I—I…” Peter explains, his tone gradually raising in pitch as it usually does when he’s nervous. “Pete. Calm down,” Tony soothes, “I’ll do my best to figure out whatever this ‘tiny, black sound thingy’ is and try to keep it off the streets, but it’s going to be hard to do without having it here to study. I’ll see if I can get someone to retrieve it so you won’t have to.” Peter relaxes at that, grateful for his caring father figure. “Thank you.” He mutters just loud enough for the philanthropist to hear. “Anytime, kid. Now go get some sleep, you’ll need it for that Geometry test tomorrow.” Mr. Stark nags. “Okay… I will. Please, call me if you find anything about what Fisk is up to.” Peter responds, completely disregarding the fact that Tony knew about the test. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you in touch. Goodnight, bud.”

 

Art by: [MochaMouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MochaMouse/profile)

 

 


	2. Just Another Day in the Neighborhood

Despite Tony’s reassuring words, Peter hardly got any sleep that night. Between the sounds of the city assaulting his heightened hearing and the constant buzzing in the back of his mind screaming ‘danger’, any sort of rest was near impossible. The tingling—he knew was brought upon by the device, either nerves or the weapon’s side effects—was becoming a nuisance in the back of his skull, merely impossible to adjust to. If the prickling rhythm above his neck doesn’t stop, Peter is going to become a complete and utter paranoid mess, even more so than he is now. His Spidey-Sense hordes his attention with the heavy sensation, his alarm blaring in chorus until he deciphers the obnoxious noise with a sigh.

Exhausted, Peter slams his fist into the snooze button on the clock, recoiling when he feels it bend from the excessive strength he uses. He lets out an irritated groan and picks it up, cringing when he realizes that it’s broken beyond repair. Peter shrugs it off and tosses the piece of junk into the trash bin across the room. Even though he knows he’ll need to find an alternative way to get up in the mornings, the constant ticking became one less noise his ears have to tune out. He takes a moment to breathe, briefly appreciating the lack of input. Peter wants nothing more than to curl up into a ball and try to fall asleep, but he knows he has to save up his sick days in case of Spider-Emergencies. He’s sure Tony would probably bribe the school system into giving him some extra days off, but he hates feeling like a charity case. Peter needs to learn how to balance his normal life and his extracurriculars properly in order to get through the next few years until Mr. Stark deems him mature enough to be promoted from an intern to a paying position at Stark Industries. Once he gets the job, Peter’s sure Tony will allow him some time off in respect of his nighttime activities. 

With one last short moments of peace, Peter lazily throws his legs over the side of his bed, shivering when his bare feet touch the cold, hardwood flooring. He lets himself adjust to the chilling feeling as he stands up and makes his way towards his closet. He grabs a long sleeve shirt that reads ‘If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate’, a pair of skinny jeans, and clean underwear before scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Peter quickly strips out of his pajamas and hops into the shower, making sure to use as little hot water as possible just in case Aunt May wants to take a shower later. The luxury of heated water in their apartment is very limited, and in May’s state, her creaking bones could very much use the heat to soothe the aches and pains of aging.

Judging from the weather reports, today is going to be pretty fredgid, so he makes sure to keep his shower short so he doesn’t end up with a cold. A sick Spidey is a sloppy Spidey, which is never good. He remembers the last time he patrolled with a cold he ended up getting shot in the thigh. Thankfully, it merely grazed him, but it was enough for him to learn that he needs to take better care of his health so he doesn’t accidentally get himself seriously injured. Death by the sniffles really doesn’t sound like a fun way to go. 

He turns the nozzle connected to the pipes to the right, turning off the water flow before stepping out and grabbing a towel off of the rack hanging on the wall across from the sink. He hurriedly dries himself off and gets dressed, making sure to pat down the drenched mop that is his hair before squeezing some toothpaste onto his toothbrush. He scrubs his teeth for approximately two minutes, seeing as though that’s what most dentists recommend, before dashing back into his bedroom to put on some shoes and grab his jacket and backpack off of his cluttered floor. Peter then snatches a poptart from their kitchen cupboard and heads towards the door, stopping when he hears faint snoring coming from across the apartment. 

May had to work late at the nursing home last night, and it had really taken a toll on her. He hates it when they make his poor aunt work overtime. One would think that they would be considerate enough to ask a stronger, more youthful nurse to help out after hours, but no, they have the elderly woman do it. Peter lets out an agitated huff at the thought and turns away from the door. He rummages through the drawers until he finds a pencil and some sticky notes. He scribbles out a little message for May placing it on the refrigerator so she’ll see it when she wakes up.

Good morning, Aunt May!!!  
I hope you managed to get some good shut eye! Do yourself a favor and treat yourself today. I made sure to leave some hot water for you in case you want to take a warm bath ♡

Once he deems his morning note worthy, he leaves the apartment building and heads to school, anticipating what kind of torture his fellow students will have in store for him today.  
The walk is relatively short, but it feels like forever compared to Peter’s prefered type of travel, but he only cheats if he’s running late. Thankfully, he has only had to do that five times since school started back a month ago. Considering his track record, he’s really quite proud of himself.

Just as the meteorologist had warned, the Autumn air is freezing today. His still wet hair sticks to the back of his neck and sends chills down his spine. If it were any colder, Peter wouldn’t be surprised if the moisture in his hair froze. His jacket is barely doing anything to warm his skin, and his nose is steadily dripping snot. Thankfully for him, his house isn’t too far away from Midtown High, so he gets there before he can catch anything. 

He walks into the school and lets out a sigh of relief. His whole body seems to melt when he feels the warm air from the heating system, momentarily distracting him from the almost overwhelming scent of sweat and teenage body odor. He comes crashing back to reality when he hears a familiar voice call out his name from down the hallway. 

“Hey, Peter! Come here, I want to show you something!” Ned’s voice booms from the halls. Peter smiles and jogs to his best friend. “What is it?” He questions once he’s within earshot. Ned doesn’t answer him, but simply waves him over. Peter comes to a stop next to Ned’s locker and gasps once he spots what his buddy is holding. “Dude, is that the Millenium Falcon LEGO set?” He gawks, eyes blown wide with excitement. “Yeah, I figured since we finished the Death Star so quickly, we could start on something else.” He replies, patting the box proudly before grabbing his books and shutting the door, “You better hurry and get your shit together for class if you want to get there before Flash shows up.” Peter lets out a nervous laugh in agreement and sprints over to his locker. He crams his bag inside and collects all of his things before slamming the door shut and hurrying to class.

Peter’s day go by as it normally does and he gets by with relative ease. The learning was never really an issue for him as much as his classmates were. He sits in the front of the room in most of his classes, so his back is constantly bombarded with spitballs and insults written in paper airplanes. A lot of what Peter deals with is pretty cliché, and it makes him want to laugh more so than anything else. He usually just ignores what’s on the letters, but he has to act like he reads them in order to avoid being harassed after the bell rings. His only safe haven from the bullies is his Biology class with Dr. Curt Connors. He’s his teacher’s prized student, so Curt always pays close attention to whoever targets Pete and gives them a referral to the office if they make any move that indicates ill intent. The people that tend to pester him don’t so much as look his way in Biology, so Petey gets a nice break from everything. Peter usually lingers in his classroom after the bell so he can dodge Flash’s goons and he and Curt discuss their scientific theories while they wait for the traffic in the halls to clear up. 

Sometimes he, Ned, and MJ will escape the lunch room to eat with Mr. Connors in the teacher’s lounge if they get fed up with all of the harassment. Peter likes to talk to his teacher after school about future career paths involving science. He talks about his Stark internship and the elder tells him about his dream of using his studies on amphibians to land himself a spot in the Oscorp labs, but no matter how many times Peter offers to talk to Harry about getting him a position there, Curt denies it. He wants to earn his way there, and that just makes Peter respect him even more. 

Today is no different from every other day; Peter counted at least 17 spitballs in his first three classes alone. He got several planes to the back of his head calling him different nicknames like ‘Puny Parker’ and ‘Penis Parker’. He has to refrain from giggling sometimes because he knows if the kids were aware of who he really was, they’d probably be scared of him. His thin frame disguises his muscle quite well; no one would ever guess that someone as small as Peter could lift up to ten tons and kick ass every night before bed. Sometimes it sucks that he can’t show off what he can really do; his school life would be so much different. He’d be popular, have lots of friends, and maybe even find himself a boyfriend, but he knows that revealing his identity would do a lot more bad than good, but sometimes he likes to imagine how different his life would be. Peter would be like a teenage celebrity, sign autographs and earn money from Spider-Man merchandise to help Aunt May pay rent. Hell, he could probably afford to move them out of their shitty neighborhood in Queens to a much safer area. He’d feel a lot better leaving her at home by herself if they lived in a better residence. 

Peter might even able to afford to bring his own lunch to school instead of eating what the lunch ladies make in the unsanitary kitchen. Peter shivers at the thought of what’s probably growing back there. Thankfully, Flash and his friends are there to take his mind off the of the terrible excuse of food on his tray. 

“What’s up, nerd squad?” Eugene yells from two tables down. Peter groans and turns over to Ned and MJ, completely ignoring the douchebag. “Answer me when I’m talking to you, freaks!” Michelle just rolls her eyes and doodles in her notebook, unphased as per usual, but Ned nervously cranes his head to look over at the jock’s table, acknowledging him. “Don’t listen to him, Ned. If we don’t pay him any mind he’ll eventually fuck off and find someone else to annoy,” Peter says, redirecting his friend’s attention.

Flash doesn’t take too kindly to that, so he came stomping his way over. MJ remains uncaring of what’s going on while Ned proceeds to panic, looking at Peter as if he’s his saving grace. “You pussies think you can just ignore me?” He growls, slamming his fist on the table. The lunch trays rattle at the force and MJ scowls when it makes her mess up her sketch. She angrily erases her mistake before glaring daggers up at Flash like she could kill him where he stands. “Got a problem, Jones?” He challenges, taking a spoonful of mashed potatoes and flicking it at her drawing. 

That seemed to be the final straw when Michelle stands up, preparing to throw her whole tray at him just as a hand reaches out and stops her. Everyone turns their heads to see Harry Osborn standing right behind MJ. “Eugene Thompson, leave them alone,” He threatens like a disappointed mother, his bright blue eyes staring directly into Flash’s with a sense of danger. Flash’s mouth falls open in shock, not used to being called by his real name. He doesn’t respond before stomping back over to his buddies like a child told to go sit in the corner. 

Once Flash is gone, MJ slowly lowers her makeshift weapon and sits back down, grumbling about her plans to kill the prick with her plastic spork. Harry laughs wholeheartedly at her before taking a seat next to them, lunchbox in hand. “Thanks, Harry. You just saved the whole cafeteria from another food fight,” Peter jokes, earning an eerily heart-warming smile from his more popular friend. “‘Just trying to keep the school from having to repaint the walls again. We need that money if we want to go compete at the Academic Decathlon again this year,” He replies, pointing at the freshly still wet bricks from the last battle that broke out just a week or so ago. It’s impressive how quickly kids at Midtown fall back into old habits. One would think that it would take a little longer than a two weeks for students to start arguing and causing drama, but not Midtown High School. On the bright side, there’s barely ever a dull moment here. 

“I thought the school was done funding trips to DC after what happened last time?” Ned recalls, taking a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Yeah, they figured that the Academic Decathlon is important to the students, so they decided to bring it back,” Harry explains before sipping on his drink. Peter looks up from his plate with wide eyes, mouth dropping as the orbs sparkle in excitement. He never got to actually participate in the event last year, and the trips were canceled after the incident at the Washington Monument, so he never had the opportunity to go back. Harry notices his dreamy gaze and smirks, “The school board wasn’t really all for it, of course, but I had a chat with my dad and he offered to help with the funding, so it didn’t take much to persuade them.” Peter cocks his head to the side curiously, “I thought you didn’t care much about the after school clubs? Why did you campaign to bring back the Decathlon?” Harry simply snickers, a mischievous look about him. He opens his mouth to answer, but is cut off by the sound of the bell. “Rain check? I told Mr. Connors I’d try to get to class a little bit early so I can tell him about the new breakthrough we made at the Stark labs the other day. I’ll talk to you guys later!” Peter says before standing up and rushing out of the cafeteria, leaving his untouched tray of food for someone else to deal with. Harry lets out a solemn sigh, staring off into the direction Peter ran in, “Talk to you later, I guess…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! How did you like chapter 2?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! If you have any criticism or tips, I’d love to hear them so I can improve.


End file.
